


Patience

by femilton



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 21:05:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13689792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femilton/pseuds/femilton
Summary: Prompt: "philip x reader pleassse maybe something where she goes to the same school but is super shy and he falls in love with her???"





	Patience

_ "philip x reader pleassse maybe something where she goes to the same school but is super shy and he falls in love with her???" _

 

“Oh my god, Y/n, did you hear?” Your best friend, Peggy Schuyler, rushed up to your locker. She was clutching her books to her chest and practically bouncing from foot to foot.

“Hear what?” Peggy stared at you.

She leaned in. “Philip Hamilton got into Harvard,” she whispered, staring at you expectantly.

“Good for him?” You turned back to your books, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. Peggy cocked her hip out. She knew you had a slight crush on the eldest Hamilton boy, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself. He was a senior anyway, the most popular guy in school, whereas you were just a shy sophomore with only a few friends who kept her nose firmly stuck in a book most of the time.

Peggy shoved you playfully. “Y/n, I know you’ve liked him since freshman year. But you haven’t done anything! It’s excruciating, for you and for me.”

You shook your head. “I don’t like him, Pegs,” you murmured, but your exuberant friend wouldn’t accept that.

Peggy sighed. “Y/n, just tell him congrats on his acceptance, okay? Seriously, you’re going to hate yourself if you didn’t at least talk to him once in the two years you knew him, whether you liked him or not.” She was right, and you both knew it. You pressed your lips together and grabbed the rest of your books out of your locker, shutting it gently. “Just promise me you’ll say that one little thing today, okay?”

“Today? I don’t know if I’ll be ready, Pegs.”

She shook her head aggressively, her curls bouncing. “You have to do it today. I’ll make you.” You groaned. “Now hurry up, we’re going to be late to English.”

* * *

 

You spent all of English and Chemistry thinking about Philip. You just couldn’t get him out of your head, no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself with Shakespeare and stoichiometry. His curls, his contagious laughter, his freckles, the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke… he was the only thing on your mind.

The bell finally rang and you walked out of Chemistry class, heading to your locker to grab your lunch. Approaching the wall of lockers, you noticed that a group of seniors was leaning against them, waiting for a friend to grab his books. Among the group was no other than Philip Hamilton. Your cheeks burned and you quietly made your way to your locker, hoping not to be seen. Sure, you wanted to say something,  _ anything  _ to him -- but not around his friends. You couldn’t handle one popular senior boy, much less a whole pack of them.

You had just slid your chemistry textbook into its place in your locker when you heard a familiar voice call your name. “Y/n, hey!” You turned your head to see Philip smiling at you, some of his friends looking in your direction as well. “How’s my favorite clarinet player?”

You smiled. So he did remember you. You had only briefly interacted once before, at the beginning of your freshman year -- you had dropped your ligature somewhere on the ground after a football game and he had stopped to help you find it. Your heart fluttered at the memory.

“Philip --” you began, but your voice faltered in the air. He looked at you kindly, waiting for you to finish your sentence. “Congrats….congratulations on getting into Harvard.” He broke into a grin.

“Thanks, kiddo.” He came over and squeezed your shoulder. Your whole body caught on fire with his touch. 

“Are you...do you plan to go there?” He shrugged.

“Probably. My dad really wants me to continue the legacy, so… it’s a good school anyway, especially for law.” So he was going to be a lawyer -- your ideal man. You didn’t know why God was playing such a cruel game with your heart, but you couldn’t handle it.

“Well, um, good luck, Philip,” you murmured, risking one last glance up at his smiling face before closing your locker and heading to lunch.

* * *

 

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a moment?” Your English teacher walked up to your table in the library, where, as usual, you were immersed in a good book. Since you had to wait for your older brother to finish track practice before he drove you home, you had a couple of hours after school each day, and spent that time studying and reading in the library.

“Um, yes, sure.” You put your bookmark in and gently closed your book before getting up and following your English teacher out into the hallway.

“Now, Y/n, I know you’re only a sophomore, but you are by far the most gifted student I have ever taught. Your ability to analyze literature and write creatively is phenomenal.” You smiled slightly.

“Thank you, sir.”

He continued. “I have a student who is struggling in my senior English class. I was wondering, would you be able to tutor him after school a couple of days a week? We are working on 1800s literature right now, and I know that’s your favorite.” You nodded.

“Yes, but sir… are you sure that I’m the right person to tutor a senior?”

Your teacher nodded. “You are the perfect person to tutor him, Y/n. Don’t be shy, he’s very nice, just struggling a bit. Why don’t you come down to my room and work with him for a bit, if you can? We’re working on  _ Pride and Prejudice _ right now, so if you could just help him analyze it a bit more deeply, that would be very helpful.” You nodded lightly, and he grinned. “Just grab your stuff and head up to my room, okay?”

A few minutes later, you had made your way up to the classroom, and walked in to see Philip Hamilton sitting at a desk in the front row. Your heart stopped.  _ Oh god, I can’t handle this again. _ His face lit up in an infectious smile, and you found yourself grinning back at him. You walked over and set your backpack and books down and slid into the desk next to him.

“Good to see you again, Y/n.” Your cheeks burned. Your teacher walked over and handed you an extra copy of  _ Pride and Prejudice _ .

“I have a meeting to head to, but I’ll just be down the hall if either of you need me, okay?” You and Philip nodded. “Y/n, we’re on Chapter 9.” You leafed through the book to the correct page as your teacher exited, ignoring how the temperature in the classroom seemed to rise. 

“So, um… I don’t really understand this part at all,” Philip admitted, laughing nervously. You took a deep breath. Talking to a cute senior, you couldn’t do. But when it came to literary analysis, you could go on for hours.

And go on you did. A little over an hour later, you and Philip had made it through two chapters, and Philip had taken nearly six pages of notes on your analysis. You closed  _ Pride and Prejudice _ , feeling yourself come back down to Earth.

“Wow, Y/n, you’re… really smart.” Philip said quietly.

You shook your head, smiling. “I’m not the one going to Harvard.”

“Not yet,” he cut in, and you looked at him to see him looking at you, his eyes staring into yours for what seemed like eternity. “Y/n, you’ll get into Harvard, no doubt. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.” You searched his eyes, looking for a sign that he was joking, but he wasn’t. You noticed how close his face was to yours; you could count all his freckles from here if you wanted. Your bated breaths mingled together, and he leaned in closer as you opened your lips to speak.

The next thing you knew, his mouth was on yours, hot and wet and soft. You closed your eyes and breathed him in, venturing a hand to softly touch his curls. In return, his hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him, until you were sure you were no longer two people but one. After a moment, he pulled away slowly, his eyes fluttering open, a remnant of the kiss hanging between your lips.

“Y/n,” he breathed, and you looked deep into his eyes, raising a trembling hand to brush a curl out of his face. “I’ve been waiting to do that for months.”

“You… have?” He nodded, and you leaned in and kissed him again, tasting the familiar sweetness of longing on his lips. You pulled back and leaned your forehead against his, savoring the moment. “I’ve been waiting, too.”


End file.
